


so close that your hand on my chest is my hand

by fits_in_frames



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-06
Updated: 2007-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-21 01:37:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1532891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fits_in_frames/pseuds/fits_in_frames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's innocuous, of course, but he's learned to read the feel of Jensen's hands: this brush means <i>you look amazing today</i>, that tap means <i>give me ten minutes before you come over</i>, this pressing palm means <i>I'm going to rip off your shirt the second we're alone.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	so close that your hand on my chest is my hand

**Author's Note:**

> _so i love you because i know no other way_  
>  _than this: where_ i _does not exist, nor_ you,  
>  _so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,_  
>  _so close that your eyes close as i fall asleep._  
>  {pablo neruda // sonnet xvii}  
> 
> 
> Inspired by [these idiots](http://imagizer.imageshack.us/a/img178/4615/upfront727wt.jpg).

They aren't even off the set when Jensen starts touching him. It's innocuous, of course, but he's learned to read the feel of Jensen's hands: this brush means _you look amazing today_ , that tap means _give me ten minutes before you come over_ , this pressing palm means _I'm going to rip off your shirt the second we're alone_. Tonight, it's a clap on the shoulder ( _don't take a shower, I like you when you're sweaty_ ) and a pinch on the neck ( _I need to make a call first_ ). They look at each other before they go to their trailers, and Jared winks. He doesn't mind being told what to do.

*

It starts with Jensen grabbing at where his collar would be if he weren't wearing a hoodie, throwing him against the door to shut it, and kissing him violently. They undress in practiced motions, breaking apart only long enough to lift shirts over their heads. They end up on the couch this time, Jensen's back arching over the arm. Jared's mouth lingers on Jensen's for only a moment before he starts drifting down, over jawbone and neck and collarbone (stopping in the dip of skin and flesh to whisper _i love you_ with a stroke of his tongue) and chest. He digs his fingers under the elastic of Jensen's boxers, pushes them down, and brushes his nose against Jensen's stomach as he makes the final move downward. Jensen smells like soap and sweat and leather and--

"Dude," Jared says, lifting his head, "are you wearing cologne?"

Jensen pushes himself into a half-sitting position, wincing. "Yes. Now shut the fuck up and blow me."

He doesn't waste any time after that--just takes Jensen's cock in his mouth all at once. It's nearly hard already; Jared's tongue will just be the finishing touch. Jensen loses his balance and slides forward, off the couch, but Jared just stays right with him. They're on the floor now, and his head is in Jensen's lap and he has go on all fours to get to him. His arms straddle Jensen's knees, and he works up and down, like he's doing push-ups. Jensen's hand rests lazily on the back of his head, tapping out something that could be either _go faster_ or _more tongue_ , so Jared does both. Jensen gasps and knocks his head against the couch. Jared looks up to see if he's okay, when his muscles tighten and Jared gets off him just in time to not get a mouthful of come. Instead, it goes all over Jensen's boxers and Jared's jeans, but they simply take them off and leave them on the floor

They wrap their arms around each other ( _don't ever leave me_ , Jensen's knuckles say, curled against his back), and he kisses Jensen again as they move into the bedroom. Jensen breathes, "Mmm, you taste like me."

"And you taste like toothpaste," he whispers in Jensen's ear. And then, "Let me fuck you."

"That was the plan," Jensen says, and lets go of him just in time to fall on to the bed. He fumbles on the nightstand, hands Jared a condom and the lube. Jared flips him over and kneels on the bed, in between his thighs. Jensen raises himself up on to his knees and elbows, like a cat stalking its prey. Jared rolls the condom on, puts some lube on his fingers, spreads it with his thumb. Jensen breathes, in and out, in and out, waiting. His hair is shimmering with perspiration and moonlight. Jared presses his lips to Jensen's spine (right where his ribcage ends, he thinks) and puts one hand on his belly, and gets one finger inside him. Jensen's stomach muscles tighten, and then there's two fingers. Jared scissors them a couple of times, brushing against Jensen's prostate with his thumb, pretending it's an accident. He mock-thrusts his body against Jensen's ass, curling his fingers each time. And then he pulls his fingers out, carefully replaces his mouth on Jensen's back with his hand (his two clean fingers brush _get ready_ ), and pushes into him. Jensen whimpers.

They stay locked in this almost too-familiar rhythm for a long time. The small of Jensen's back is warm and soft and damp underneath his palm. He traces vertebrae with two fingers, one on each side, both saying _you are mine_ , as he thrusts again, slow and easy. Jensen moans and tries to clamp his knees together, but his hips only creak something about a big oaf being in their way. Jared smiles and moves his other hand to Jensen's hip. There will be half-moon bruises there in the morning, but it doesn't matter, because no one ever sees and if they do, they never ask. Jared grunts and pushes in again, this time hard and sharp and all at once. Jensen's arms go rigid and Jared can't help but grip at his shoulder, pulling himself into another thrust. He runs his tongue up Jensen's back to say, _i'm going to come_. He feels his legs get tight and his chest feels warm and then-- _oh_. Jensen groans at the increase in pressure, and Jared quickly pulls out, collapses backwards, narrowly missing the edge of the bed. He lifts his head to see that Jensen's fallen forward, and he could almost be asleep, except that he immediately turns over. His face is flushed and slick with sweat, but he is smiling. Jared grins back and crawls up to meet him.

He lies on his back and Jensen curls up next to him, one leg over two, one hand on his chest and the other in his hair.

"I should get going," Jared says to the ceiling.

Jensen doesn't say anything, just continues to breathe warmly against his ear, but he feels _stay for a while_ flexing against his chest. And as if it were his own decision, he faces Jensen, presses a hand to him, and says the same thing.


End file.
